Nothing Practical About It
by SolarRose29
Summary: What in the world made Tony think playing a practical joke on Earth's Mightiest Heroes was a good idea?


Tony Stark was bored. And that was never a good thing. He had already taken his suit out for a flight to the local sub shop to grab a quick bite. His plan for a spontanious road trip had failed when he had taken his sports car out onto the streets, forgetting that he was in New York, not California. Pepper was busy with meetings and conferences, Rhoday was on the President's protection detail and Banner had had the audacity to lock Tony out of the lab, claiming to have needed a little peace and quiet in which to work on his project. So that had left Tony standing in the middle of the top floor of the Tower, arms crossed, trying to come up with something to occupy his time.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. He wasn't a genius billionaire for nothing. When inspiration hit, it hit hard. And when he got ideas, they were good ones. Taking a moment to work out the details, he grinned to himself. This was one of his best ideas yet. Empolying Jarvis' help, he set out to play one of his greatest pranks ever.

"All set, Jarvis?" he queried a few moments later.

"Everything has been prepared, sir, as you directed." came the monotone reply.

"Great! Let's start with Thor." Tony casually slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialed Thor's cell phone number.

After the Avengers moved into the Tower, Tony had insisted on each member getting a cell phone in order to be easily reachable in case of emergencies. It had been a great idea except where Thor and Captain America had been involved. They both had a bit of trouble with the phones. It had been enough to try Tony's patience on more than one occasion. And as Tony stood waiting, with the dial tone shrieking in his ear, he assumed this would be one of those times.

"Pick up, you big oaf," he muttered.

Thor cocked his head and stared at the picture. After staring for several minutes, he flipped his head in the other direction, hoping to be able to make more sense of the splashes of color that littered the canvas. He had gotten lost (not that he would admit it) and had happened upon Tony's art collection. He wondered if he should ask someone to explain Midgardian art to him because he was unable to see any point to the random smears of paint. They didn't form any recognizable shape that he could discern and wasn't that the point of painting? To illustrate some great feat accomplished by heroes of old?

As he continued gazing at the blotches of dried paint, he wondered if he needed a new angle. Deciding that he did, he promptly did a handstand. And the lights went out. Momentarily, he pondered whether he had gone down too fast and knocked himself on the head and if he was therefore unconcious. It seemed possible. Except for the music playing somewhere in the dark. It seemed familiar and he listened for a while, trying to remember where he had heard it before. Then it dawned on him. The little thing the Man of Iron had given him. A communication device of sorts.

He flipped onto his feet and searched the floor with his hands until he found the small square. Holding it to his ear, he said hello and was surprised when the music didn't end. Pulling it back, he stared at it before remembering he was supposed to flip it open first. Lifting the lid carefully (he was always afraid of breaking the delicate thing,) he tried his greetings again.

"Hello?"

"Finally. Geez whiz, I mean, I've been over this with you a million times. It's really not that hard to remember how to work a cell phone. Seriously, come on. How hard could it be to-hang on. Uh...let me start over." Tony's irriated voice came through the speaker.

"Tony?" Thor tried but when he was met with silence, he shrugged and closed the phone.

In the middle of his placing it back in its pouch on his belt, it began its music again. This time, Thor was prepared and he answered it right away.

"Hello. This is Thor, how can I be of assistance?"

"Thor, you've got to help me." This time, Tony sounded almost panicked.

"Whatever is the matter, Tony?" Thor grew serious.

"You've got to get up here. I'm on the top floor and I don't think the elevators are working. Hurry!" Tony's words rushed out.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Thor promised, hanging up.

Holding out his hand, he waited as his hammer flew through the many floors from his room into his expectant palm. Once the metal met his hand, he raised his arm and crashed through floor after floor, eager to get to Tony to help him. When he smashed through the final obstacle, he was surprised to see Tony standing in the middle of the room with a video camera trained on the entrance of the stairway. Tony spun around with an equally surprised expression on his face.

"Wha-Thor?!" he exclaimed.

"Yes. It is I. Where is the trouble you spoke of?" Thor glanced around the room, searching for enemies.

"Actually, I think I'm looking at it," Tony replied glumly, surveying the ruined floor.

"Oh." Thor was disappointed. He had wanted to smash more than ceilings with his hammer.

"Oh well. This just means you can watch the rest of the fun." Tony turned around and repositioned the camera. "Jarvis, let's move on to Natasha."

"Yes, sir."

Thor's curiosity was piqued and he crossed the room to stand next to Tony.

"What do you mean?" he questioned.

"Hmm? Oh. I got this brilliant idea. It's going to be so funny. See, Jarvis turns off the power to whatever floor the person is on who I'm playing the prank on. That immediately sets people on edge. I mean, who likes to have the lights go out? And then, I call them on the phone which proves that the blackout is local since the cell towers still work. Anyway, I call to tell them I'm in trouble and ask them to get up here. Cue Jarvis to cut out the elevators thus forcing them to take the stairs up all those floors. I'm here with the camera to catch their expressions when they realize they burned all those calories for nothing," Tony explained with a smirk.

Thor nodded and agreed to watch and wait. Jarvis announced that the power had been cut in the kitchen where Black Widow had been preparing dinner for the night. Tony grinned and dialed her number.

Natasha grabbed the jar of olives out of the fridge and was about to put them on the unbaked pizza in front of her when she remembered Clint didn't like olives. Placing them back on the shelf, she snatched the bag of cheese instead. Humming to herself, she sprinkled a liberal amount onto the prepared dish. After putting away the cheese, she opened the oven to put the pizza inside. When the light went off in the oven, she groaned. Why did it have to choose now of all times to have a sudden malfunction? As it was, she barely had enough time to bake it before dinner rolled around.

Pulling her head out of the oven she was about to check for the technical problem when she realized the oven wasn't the only thing not working. The lights had also gone dark. Her instincts kicked in and, out of habit, she reached for her gun. She strained her ears, alert to any signs of danger. The shrill ringing of her cell phone nearly made her jump. She glanced at the caller ID and wondered why Tony would be calling her. Unless he noticed the problem too.

"Tony?" she answered in a whisper.

"Natasha, is that you?"

"Yes of course. Tony, is this blackout-"

"You've got to get up here. I think we've got a problem. This power outage, it's-" Tony interrupted.

"Where? Tony, are you okay?" She was already moving out the door.

"I'm on the top floor. Hurry!"

"I'm on my way." Natasha hung up the phone and bolted for the elevator.

She frowned when it didn't light up even when she punched the button several times. Looking up, she wasn't sure if Jarvis was still online but she decided to give it the benefit of the doubt.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?"

"Jarvis, can you get the elevator to work?" She bounced on her toes, awaiting an answer.

"I am afraid not."

She had been expecting that answer and was prepared for it. Bolting for the stairwell, she pulled out her phone.

"Jarvis, can you get the security footage for the top floor?"

"Yes."

"Good. Send it to my phone." She sprinted down the hallway.

"I am downloading a live feed now."

Natasha paused in front of the door to the stairs and stared at her cellphone screen.

"You said this was a live feed?"

"Yes."

"As in, this is what's happening at this exact moment?" Skepticism edged her voice.

"Yes."

"Umm, Jarvis? How were you able to get this footage?"

"Easily."

"I thought the power was out?" Natasha was beginning to put the pieces together.

No answer.

"Jarvis." Natasha's voice was a waning.

"I am not at liberty to discuss this."

"Alright then. You know what? Patch me through to the top. I'll talk to Stark myself."

"Of course."

And it might have been her imagination, but Natasha thought it sounded almost reluctant.

Thor peered over Tony's shoulder. "How long do we wait?"

"It'll take her awhile to get up all those stairs. Especially considering that, except for her crazy mad ninja/assassian skills, she's got no super powers." Tony shrugged.

"I don't, do I?" Her voice sounded behind them, dangerously low.

Tony froze. "I meant that in the best possible way," he ventured before turning around to face the T.V. Jarvis had connected to Natasha's cell phone.

"Mmhm." Natasha rolled her eyes. "So what's with the power outage and the phone call?"

"That was just a little, uh, joke?" Tony tried to gauge her reaction.

"Uh-huh." She did not look amused.

"Hey! You know what, why don't you come join us? I was just about to try this out on Clint."

Natasha perked up at the mention of his name. "I guess I could. But on two conditions."

Tony swallowed hard.

"First, you make the elevators work. There is no way I am climbing all those stairs and second, I need to finish the pizza I'm making."

Tony licked his lips at the word 'pizza' and Thor started to drool.

"It's not for you," Natasha stated, ending her video call.

Once she had finished her tasks and joined them, Tony asked Jarvis to set up for trying out the prank on Hawkeye. Without waiting for an answer, Tony dailed for Clint.

"Sir-"

"Not now Jarvis."

"But sir-"

"Shh. He's answering."

Clint stared out across the city, watching the traffic, watching the people, watching the streetlights. His sharp eyes picked out everything in the cityscape below. Taking a deep breath that tasted like car exhaust with a slight hint of fried food, he tried to relax and let out the tension in his shoulders. Fury had given them several months of leave to 'recover and get aquainted with one another'. But Clint's suspicious nature didn't let him forget the possibility that maybe SHIELD wasn't ready to fully trust him again. Not that he blamed them. There were days that he had his own doubts. And being couped up in the Tower for weeks on end did little to boost his self-confidence. He stroked his bow thoughtfully, lost in memories.

A low rumbling from his pocket alerted him that he was receiving a call on his cell phone. He thought about ignoring it or even dropping it over the edge just to watch it fall. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was from Tony and he remembered Natasha's words to him about trying to interact with the others more often. Sighing, he answered it.

"Agent Barton," he frowned at his own choice of words but habit had made it his automatic response.

"I don't have much time. Hurry, you have to get up here!"

'Up where?' Clint wondered to himself. As far as he knew he was the highest anyone could be without being on an airplane. After all, Stark Tower was the highest building in New York and he was on the roof. Had Fury secretly called Tony out on a mission and he was on the helicarrier and asking for Clint's help?

"I think we have a problem." Tony sounded upset.

"What's going on?" Clint demanded but he was met with static.

Since he had just seen him at breakfast and it was unlikely that SHIELD would pick Stark up unannounced, he assumed Tony was in the Tower. Clenching his teeth, he pressed a few buttons on his bow and the bottom of his quiver rotated, allowing the tip to attatch to the shaft. He stepped up to the edge and looked down the one and a half thousand foot drop to the street below.

"I really hate this," he murmured before taking a final step, letting his feet leave the roof.

For a sickening moment, he plunged straight down, the air getting sucked from his lungs. Twisting his torso, he manuvered his body into position, drawing back his bow. Trusting his muscle memory to do what needed to be done, he let the arrow fly. It sliced through the whipping wind, the tip opening into a grappling hook that plunged into the wall above the large glass windows on the crown of the building. Clint steeled himself for the jolt. But it still yanked his shoulder nearly out of its socket each time. Pulling his legs up, he tightened his muscles before extending them with a push. The glass shattered and skittered across the floor as he tumbled through the broken window in a shower of sparkling crystal.

Tony spun the camera around. "Oh, come on! What is with you people? Do you hate the Tower or something? It's easier to tell me to fix whatever it is about the design that you don't like instead of taking it apart yourself. Not to mention-wait a second. How in the world did you get in here?"

"That was what I was trying to tell you, sir. Clint Barton was on the roof, not inside the building," Jarvis interrupted.

Natasha hurried over to give Clint a hand to help him regain his footing.

"What's wrong? What's the emergency?" Clint managed to question through gritted teeth, trying not to groan in his pain.

"There is no emergency. This was all a jest," Thor proclaimed, looking pleased with himself although no one could think of a reason why.

"What?!" Clint pushed away Natasha's hands and glared at Tony.

"Yeah. So far it's only been backfiring on me." Tony took a cautious step away from Clint's quickly growing temper.

"We didn't mean anything by it and we certainly didn't know you were on the roof or that you would come crashing through the window." Natasha attempted to placate him.

"You knew about this?" he turned on her.

"Sort of. After he tried it on me first."

Clint still looked angry so Tony tried his fall back.

"You want to watch? See what happens when I do it to Bruce?"

Giving Tony a look that promised that he was plotting revenge, Clint put an arm around Natasha and kicked aside bits of broken glass as he stomped across the room to where Tony was waiting.

"Okay, let's try this again," Tony suggested. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Is Doctor Bruce Banner within the confines of this building?" Tony queried with exaggerated slowness.

"Yes, sir. He is in lab number six."

"Okay." Tony glanced around at the others. "Here we go."

Bruce carefully tilted the beaker, allowing a tiny amount of thin liquid to spill into the waiting glass container. A hiss accompanied the puff of silver steam that shot out of the glass. He coughed and waved his hands in front of his face to clear some of the fumes out of the air. That was unexpected. If he had known the percoclyne would react like that if it was added to hydro-cycline he would have worn gloves as well as goggles.

Taking note of the exact amounts he had used, he wrote down his findings in his pocket notebook and prepared to start over. Not that he minded. Half the fun in these experiments was finding what didn't work. And Tony hadn't been exaggerating about all the supplies he'd have at his disposal. Bruce had never had such an abundance. Anything he wanted, they had. And anything he dreamt of could be created. It was a paradise and it was his. Mostly. He still had to deal with Tony poking his nose in now and then. Which was a distraction, but one that Bruce was willing to put up with.

Speaking of distractions, his cell phone began beeping. Sticking his pen behind his ear, he reached into his lab coat and answered it.

"Hello, Dr. Bruce Banner."

"Bruce, I need you to get up to the top floor right away."

"Why? Is there something you need?" Bruce questioned, stepping out of the lab.

"I think that-" Tony was cut off at the same instant that the lights went out.

"Whoa. Hey, Tony are you seeing this?" Bruce glanced up and down the blackened corridor. "Tony? Tony? Are you there?"

Hearing only silence, he hung up and quickened his pace to the elevators, his only light being the muted sunlight that managed to get through the thick glass windows. Tony had said the top floor and for him to hurry.

"Oh no, no, no." Bruce mumbled when he saw the elevators were working about as well as the lights. "Jarvis? Are you there?" he called up to the ceiling.

"Yes."

"That's weird," Bruce muttered under his breath, thinking that if the power was out, Jarvis would be unable to function. "Jarvis, is this power outage local, like only a couple of floors?"

"Yes."

"Can you activate the elevators?" Bruce inquired.

"...No."

Bruce wondered why it took so long for him to answer. But he had no time to waste on useless questions. Tony needed him right away. And there were other ways of getting an elevator to work. Snatching the pen from behind his ear, he slipped it out of its casing and slid the point into the screws on the elevator button panel. Giving it a few hearty twists, the cover popped off, revealing a tangle of wires. Peering through the gloom, he stared at the various wires before selecting a few and tugging them loose. A couple of sparks leapt into the air and Bruce rocked back on his heels to avoid them. But, undetered, he resumed his work, plugging the wires into different sockets. The elevator lit up with a hum. Bruce smiled to himself and replaced the panel.

"So how long before he gets here, do you think?" Natasha finally broke the awkward silence that had desended on the group.

"That's supposing he fell for it. The guy's not an idiot. He's a freaking doctor," Clint grumbled.

"Why wouldn't he?" Tony looked genuienly confused. "He'll be here. And, I'm kinda hoping this stresses him out a little. Well, more like a lot."

"Would you get over that already?" Natasha asked, exasperated. "How long is it going to take to get you to understand that Dr. Banner 'Hulking out' is not a party trick?"

"I dunno. How long?" Tony returned.

"Longer than it should," Natasha retorted.

*Ding*

Everyone froze.

"Um...was that the elevator?" Tony inquired, puzzled. "Jarvis, I thought you cut the power."

"I did, sir."

"Then explain how he," Tony pointed a vicious finger at Bruce, "got up here."

"I noticed the power was out so I rerouted the full electrons through the mainframe into the subdividers thereby establishing a complete circuit enabling the elevator to slide on it's cables," Bruce answered before Jarvis could reply.

"Told you. Freaking doctor," Clint muttered.

"Though, I can see that I really didn't need to do any of that," Bruce stated, glancing around the semi-circle of his fellow Avengers. "Ha, ha. I get it. Let's play a joke on Banner. Let's watch and wait for the...Other Guy..to decide to come out," he concluded, a wounded expression on his face.

"Yup," Tony agreed.

Natasha elbowed him. "Look, Bruce, it isn't like that. First off, as you already know, this was all Tony's idea. Second, he tried it on all of us first. That's why we're up here. We weren't sitting around trying to make you lose control. At least most of us weren't." She shot a glare in Tony's direction.

Tony shrugged unapologetically. "Great. Now that that's out of the way, there's only one person we're missing." He clapped his hands once and rubbed them together.

Bruce pursed his lips but didn't say anthing else.

"Who?" Thor jolted from the daze he had fallen into waiting for the arguement to end.

Tony stared intently at him.

"Me?" Thor raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, we're missing you," Tony sarcastically replied. "No! America's Golden Boy. The Capsicle," he raised his voice a bit.

Realization dawned on Thor. "Oh! You mean Steve Rogers isn't here yet."

Clint did a facepalm.

Tony decided to ignore Thor in case stupidity was contagious. "So, Jarvis, where is the good captain?"

"He is just now entering the Tower through the main entrance."

"Oooh. This is better than I thought!" Tony's eyes glowed in gleeful anticipation.

"You're going to try this on him? After it's backfired on you every single time?" Natasha questioned in disbelief.

"Come on." Tony had his cell phone in hand and was already pressing buttons. "I'm Tony Stark. My ideas may not work the first time. Or the second, third or fourth," he nodded his head at each of them. "But they always work. Eventually."

Bruce shook his head.

"Hey, Jarvis, as soon as you pull the plug down there, bring up the footage from the lobby. And be prepared to roll the film from the stairwells," Tony added.

"You seem awfully certain that this is going to work," Natasha observed.

Tony held a finger to his lips and pointed to the phone he held to his ear. "Hey, Cap. Congratulations on answering your cell by the way. Anyway, we've got a problem."

Steve watched the glass doors slide effortlessly along their track. At first, he'd been confused by the automatic doors. Remembering them from his infiltration of Hydra bases, he realized he hadn't had a clue how they worked. Back then, somewhere in his mind, he had simply assumed that the moving doors were more of Hydra's advanced weaponry powered by the Tesseract. But when he woke up and saw them in almost every building in New York, he knew he had been mistaken. Taking Bruce aside one day, he'd asked him to explain them. Bruce had gladly told him about the motion sensors that were mounted on the frame of the doorways. Steve had thanked Bruce and, as was his habit, asked him not to mention their meeting to Tony.

A tiny part of Steve was always embarrassed at having to ask for help in understanding the world around him. The things that he found challenging were simple to everyone else and Tony made no attempt to hide his amusement whenever Steve asked about modern subjects. So Steve had learned his lesson and took care not to ask for anything to be explained within earshot of Tony. He'd had enough of Tony's belittling remarks. He prefered to talk with Bruce when he could. Even if they didn't say anything out right, Steve could see it in the eyes of the others that they were exasperated with his constant stream of questions about ordinary objects and concepts. But at least Bruce was patient and he always double checked to make sure Steve had throughly grasped the explanation of whatever he had wanted to know about.

But there were times when Steve just wanted to get away. Out of the Tower and onto the streets of the city he had grown up in. It had changed in the eighty years since he had been a boy but it was still one of the last ties he had to his old life.

His cell phone rang, reminding him that the past was gone and he was living in the age of modern technology. Sighing, he laid his finger on the screen, accepting the call as he crossed the wide lobby and stopped in front of the elevators.

"Hello."

"Hey, Cap. Congratulations on answering your phone by the way." Tony's voice greeted him.

Steve rolled his eyes. He'd conquered the cell phone last week. Well, most of it. And only with lots of help from Bruce. Even so, the extra gadgets still confused him (why would he need apps or mp3 or Facetime anyway?) Steve reached out and pressed the button for the elevator. He frowned when it didn't light up. Stupid technology always let you down.

"Anyway, we've got a problem," Tony continued.

"Yeah. I can see that." Steve gestured at the nonfunctioning elevator.

"Seems to be some kind of power outage," Tony asserted.

"Mmh hmm," Steve grunted non-commitanlly.

"It could be an accident or a malfunction but, due to the very scientific nature of this Tower, that's impossible. Of course, I wouldn't expect you to understand why."

Steve clenched his jaw.

"I could explain it to you but all you would hear is 'blah blah blah, sciencey stuff, sciency stuff'. So I figured I'd save us both some time and cut to the chase. I think someone may be trying to attack the Tower." Tony ended abruptly.

"What?" Steve stiffened. "If this is some kind of joke..."

He couldn't see Tony flinch.

"You'd better get up here, Cap, to the top. I think you'll want to see this. It looks like some kind of-" A rustling sound crackled across the lines, muffling Tony's voice and setting Steve on edge.

"Tony? Tony!" he tried to get a response but none was coming.

Yanking the phone from his ear, he hung up before going to his speed dial and finding Tony's name. He waited impatiently for Tony to pick up. But by the second ring, he knew it was useless. Tony always answered his phone and usually before the first ring was finished. If he wasn't answering it was because he couldn't. Which meant something bad was happening. Steve spun around, searching the empty lobby for a solution. The top floor. How was he supposed to get to the top floor if the elevators weren't working?

Then he spotted it. Tucked away in the corner, an unobtrusive sign with the word 'stairs' pointed to an equally unassuming door. Steve sprinted across the polished floor and tore the door open. White metal stairs stood in rows, not startled by their first visitor since their creation. Steve took a deep breath and started running.

"See, I told you it would work. Am I brilliant or what?" Tony smugly waved a hand at the monitor currently displaying Steve's dash up the stairs.

A slight flicker passed over the screen as Jarvis switched to the second floor cameras in order to track Steve's progress.

"Wow." Clint leaned forward to make sure he was able to trust what he was seeing. "So how long before he passes out?"

Another flicker.

"He's a super soldier. It'll be no problem for him," was Tony's offhanded response.

"There are one hundred and ten stories in this buiding," Natasha reminded everyone.

"I know. I kinda designed this Tower. It's got my name on it. I think I should know everything about it." Tony smirked.

"There are sixteen steps to a floor," Natasha hinted.

"So?" Tony promted.

"So that's one thousand, seven hundred and sixty stairs." Her words hung heavily in the air. "And you expect him to climb them all."

"There's no way he can do that," Clint finally stated what they had all been thinking.

Tony's smirk slipped a fraction but he quickly replaced it with another. "Then we can take bets on how far he makes it before he passes out."

"Are you that cruel?" Natasha questioned, shocked.

"You wanna stop him, be my guest." Tony held his cell phone out to her. "But you can't deny that you're just as curious as anyone else about how far he can make it." He raised an eyebrow at her.

She pressed her lips together, apparently in the middle of an internal debate.

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "But the moment he starts getting tired, I'm calling him and telling him to stop." She snatched the phone from Tony's outstretched hand.

"Then I think you should do it now," Thor recommended, having watched the screen while the others were talking.

They all turned to look and it was obvious that Steve's pace had slackened considerably.

"He can't be tired already. It's only, what, the tenth floor?" Tony frowned.

"The thirty-second," Jarvis supplied.

"That was quick," Tony allowed. "I would be impressed with that. If only he wasn't already giving up."

Bruce peered closely at the monitor, studying Steve's running pattern. "No. No, he's not giving up."

"But he slowed down," Tony whined.

Bruce shook his head. "He's pacing himself," he muttered in awe.

"What?" Natasha came up beside him.

"I think he realized he wasn't going to be able to sprint up a hundred floors. So, he's pacing himself. He slowed down for two floors and look, now he's speeding up again," Bruce expounded.

They all gathered around the monitor and watched Steve race up three more levels before slowing down for two. He continued in this pattern. His fellow Avengers could do nothing but stare, amazed, as he pounded up flight after flight of stairs.

"I cannot believe he is actually doing this," Clint commented in an undertone.

The others jaws had hit the floor and they were unable to answer.

Steve only deviated from his set course once. When he reached the floor that housed his living quartes, he rushed through the door and out into the hallway. That was enough to break the trance that had fallen over his audience.

"Is he giving up now?"

"Where is he going?"

"Why'd he stop?"

"Is he coming back?"

"There he is."

"Oh, he got his shield."

"Um, Tony..."

"I know, I know. It's getting a little out of hand but I'm sure I can handle it."

Back on track, Steve darted up the remaining floors, sweat soaking through his street clothes. Again, the same sense of awe fell over the little group gathered around the screen and no one felt the need to speak.

"Sir, he's reached the one hundredth floor," Jarvis broke the silence.

Everyone jumped, though most of them tried to hide the fact.

"Woah. He's really doing it," Clint whispered.

"One hundred and fifth," Jarvis informed.

Natasha tore her eyes from the screen and looked towards the stairwell in the corner on the far side of the room.

"One hundred and six. Seven. Eight. Nine," Jarvis narrated.

*WHAM*

The door to the stairs slammed into the wall with a force that shook the walls. The bottles and glasses in Tony's wet bar trembled and clinked together. Slowly, Tony, Thor, Bruce and Clint turned around. Steve imposing physique was framed in the doorway and his labored panting echoed in the empty stairway behind him, swelling forward into the open space of the highest room in the Tower.

"You...wanted...me to see...something?" Steve panted between gasps of air.

No one moved. No one spoke. Natasha and Clint openly gaped at him. Running up nearly eighteen hundred stairs was not something to be taken lightly. A drop of sweat rolled off the crown of Steve's head, down his forehead and onto his face, gathering other beads of sweat until it slipped off his chin and landed with a splash on the floor.

"Yeah, Tony." Bruce's voice was quiet but it seemed louder in the confines of the brewing storm. "What, ah, was it you wanted to show him?" He saw the perfect opportunity for revenge.

Tony swallowed hard. Steve took a shaky step into the room, keeping his left hand on the doorframe for support, his right hand weighed down with his shield.

"Steve," Tony started with an embarrassing squeak.

Steve straightened. Tony never called him by his first name. Something had to be really wrong.

"Have you ever heard of a practical joke?" Tony winced.

Steve pushed Tony's words to the back of his mind as he scanned the room for potential threats. Seeing none, he allowed himself the luxury of focusing on what Tony had just said. Albeit, it was difficult to concentrate around the black spots dancing in his vision. Everyone held their breaths (except Steve who was still attempting to find his) waiting for the moment he realized the trick.

At first, he was confused. What did a practical joke have to do with a power outage? And what was it Tony had wanted him to see? Why were the Avengers gathered on the top floor? How did all these things fit together?

One by one, the pieces fell into place. And Steve found nothing practical about it at all. His lungs were on fire, his throat burned. He was pretty certain he couldn't feel his legs. But what had it all been for? A joke.

"It was just a harmless little prank, right? No hard feelings?" Tony nervously tried.

Steve was almost positive he had no strength left in his body, super soldier serum or not. But he did have enough left for one last necessasary action. It happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, the shield was in Steve's hand. The next, Tony was sprawled on the ground. Thor gapsed.

"I'd say he had that coming." Natasha prodded the now unconcious Tony with the tip of her boot.

"Heck yeah," Clint agreed. "Oh and Captain?"

Steve was now slumped against the wall beside the door. He raised his head to fix an unfocused stare at Clint.

"I have never seen anything so darn freakin' amazing in my entire life," Clint complimented him with the highest praise he could.

Steve lolled his head to the side in the best acknowledgement he could muster.

"That was just amazing," Bruce added, coming over to Steve with a drink in his hand.

Steve eyed it suspiciously.

"It's just water." Bruce assured him. "Although I think a little kick in your drink wouldn't hurt."

Steve shook his head and accepted the cup.

"What you just did was," Bruce searched for the right word, "mind-blowing."

Steve downed the cup in one gulp.

"More like leg-blowing," he complained. "I can barely feel them and I'm sure I'll regret this tomorrow."

"Not as much as he will." Natasha gave Tony another poke with her shoe.

Clint smirked wickedly. The expression was contagious. With matching malicious grins, everyone formed a circle around Tony's limp body and discussed the best way to get back at him. Of course, it wouldn't be revenge. It would just be another little, harmless prank.


End file.
